Name
by writingscientist
Summary: L gives the newest addition to Wammy's House an alias.


**Author's Note:** _Even though I have already written a backstory for why Nate River ended up at Wammy's House (see the first chapter of my other story "Of Orphanages and the Children who live in Them") I wanted a first meeting between him and L, as well as a chance to show how he got the alias "Near". _

_A few other things:_

_1. When L is speaking French, he says "I'll never tell." and "Perhaps…". Also, BB refers to him as "my sexy detective". To anyone fluent in French, if the translation is wrong, blame Google Translate. ;P _

_2. I know that it takes a while to actually get to Near, but bear with me. I wanted to show a little of what L's home life at Wammy's House was like in this story. _

_3. I completely guessed on what A's appearance and personality were like, as well as his real name. I just matched what I could with what we already know about him (he was L's first successor, he was really smart, and the pressure of trying to be like L eventually made him commit suicide). _

_4. Yeah. I went there. A few of L's thoughts about Beyond are lyrics to from the song "Goodnight" by The Birthday Massacre. It just seemed too perfect not to include. If you haven't heard this song, go listen now! Better yet, watch the CMV "Beyond Birthday- A Murderer is Born". It was the inspiration for a few of the sections involving BB. _

_5. Yes, L's little speech at the very end is from the movie, _L Change the World_. I claim no ownership to those lines, it just seemed a waste that such a pretty thing to say wasn't in the original series. _

_That's about it. Enjoy!_

If someone were to ever ask L Lawliet what things he enjoyed most in the world, homecomings would definitely be an answer. Solving a case would probably be the first one, with strawberry cheesecake a close second. But the feeling of arriving back at his beloved Wammy's House after a month of working furiously on a particularly difficult assignment in some remote location? Yeah. It was right up there with work and sugar.

The young detective yawned and stretched out his long, thin arms, relishing the sight before him. The stately, stone mansion was a little harder to see in the pitch black of the midnight hour, but L could hear the familiar mechanical grind of its gates as they opened to usher in the old car and he knew he was home. The fourteen year old allowed himself a rare smile of contentment.

Quillish pulled up right in front of the House like he always did and went to open his charge's door. L hopped out eagerly and gazed up. The clock tower gazed back, its warm glow the only source of light throughout the snow-blanketed estate. Quillish went to collect the bags and L followed, the slightest amount of impatience in his steps. The November night was a cold one and young men who do not often wear shoes tend to get chilled more quickly than others. The boy gathered his own things from the trunk and headed towards the House after his caretaker. A few security passwords later and the pair were quietly walking down the House's main hall. L inhaled the comforting smells of home: old wood, fresh linens, and spices from dinner.

The duo stopped at the sprawling staircase. L set his possession down.

"I'm going to see if I can find any leftovers in the kitchen." He whispered. After all, that lollipop he had had in the car was hardly a meal.

His guardian nodded, as if he had expected nothing less.

"Alright." He said. "I'll take these upstairs to the apartment. Try not to stay up too late; you've been working very hard." There was pride in the elderly gentlemen's voice. He ruffled his ward's soft, inky hair.

"Good night, L."

"Good night, Quillish."

The old inventor began his journey up the stairs and L scampered off in the direction of the dining room, trying to be as silent as possible. The House's other residents did not need to be rudely awoken at 3AM by a stomping pair of bare feet. Finally, he reached his destination. Just as coming home was one L's most favorite things, so too was the kitchen one of his most favorite rooms in the House. It wasn't just because cake could be found here. After all, he could have that brought up to his own room if he wanted. No, it was just the feeling that the place had; like it was the heart, the source of warmth, for this big, old, wonderful house of his.

He turned on a few switches (one needed light if they were to look for food) and began digging around in the refrigerator. A few minutes of searching yielded him nothing; it seemed that the cake supply was directly proportional to him being physically present in the House. L sighed a sad little sign of disappointment. Oh, well. He would just beg Gregory the cook for an extra piece tomorrow. He was about to open one of the cabinets (there was sugar hidden somewhere in this kitchen, he'd bet his life on it), when suddenly the lights went out.

L glanced up, startled, and listened closely. The small creak of the door being closed could just be heard, as well as the nearly silent shuffling of a pair of feet advancing in his direction. Someone was coming towards him.

L fought the urge to panic. Of course, it was unlikely that this person was an enemy; Wammy's House might have been a place of refuge and kindness, but it had enough security systems to protect a small fortress. Still, L's natural instincts were whispering for him to run.

Then, after his eyes adjusted to the darkness, the fourteen year old could just make out a face approaching him from the shadows.

Crimson eyes.

A Cheshire cat's grin.

L had enough time to feel slightly relived before a pair of strong hands had slammed him up against the refrigerator and a hot mouth was inches away from his own.

"Hello, Lawlipop." Beyond Birthday whispered, his warm breath ghosting over L's lips for a just a second.

L tried to say "Hello, Beyond. How have you been?", but all that came out was a strangled sort of _mph_! when his successor crushed their mouths together, the doppelgänger's tongue already making its way past his lips. BB tasted the way he always did, of strawberry jam and lust.

Beyond ground his slender hips against L's and continued to assault his mentor's mouth. Finally, after a good few moments, air became a priority for the two and the kiss was reluctantly ended. BB panted for second and looked up slightly so that his huge blood red eyes could met L's equally enormous gray ones. His expression was the same one he always wore when looking at his teacher, one of complete and utter worship that sometimes seemed to border on manic.

"So tell me, Lawli,"

The younger man's voice was a low purr in L's ear. There were promises in that voice. Promises of nights filled with heat despite the winter weather and of mornings for L spent finding new bite marks on his person.

"Where did you go this time?"

L grinned and kissed his successor's chin, trailing his hands up the boy's sides.

"Je ne le dirai jamais." He replied. It was a game they played. L would speak the most popular language of the country he had just returned from and Beyond would try and figure out what that country was and what the case had been about.

"Ooh! French!" BB cooed. He sensually licked L's cheek and chuckled softly when he felt his mentor shudder. "This wouldn't have anything to do with that weapons smuggling operation in the Congo that was just shut down, now would it?"

It was L's turn to chuckle. His double had never missed a question yet.

"Peut-être ..." he said.

Beyond hummed in victory and gave the young detective another deep kiss. He gently slid their bodies away from the fridge and onto the counter. L idly wondered if his doppelgänger was going to take him right here in the kitchen… But instead the crimson eyed creature opened the refrigerator door and reached blindly until he withdrew a small item and held to his hip. Then the thirteen year old pulled away, but kept his lips close to L's.

"Well, then, mon détective sexy, shall we indulge in the culture from which that language came from and have breakfast in bed?" The double lifted his stolen prize from the fridge and wiggled it playfully.

A jar of homemade strawberry jam. L was not surprised in the least.

He laughed. "One, doesn't it have to be morning to have breakfast? Two, the French breakfast usually requires bread with its jam. And three, we are in the kitchen, not in bed."

The student arched an eyebrow and grinned. "One," he replied. "it _is_ morning. Technically speaking. Two,"

He removed the top of the jar and placed two digits inside, coating them with the pink, syrupy liquid. "Why waste bread when the human body works just as well?"

He slipped his fingers past L's lips. The detective sucked on them gently, swirling his tongue around the digits, savoring the sweet taste. He was a little disappointed when Beyond removed them from his mouth.

"And, three," There was a gleam in BB's burgundy eyes. "the factor that we are not in bed is an easily alterable one."

L leveled his companion a grin of his own.

"Then I suggest you alter it, Napoleon."

L's earlier attempts at navigating the House quietly as to not wake up the other wards were all in vain, as he and Beyond only found their way to the successor's room after a great deal of giggling and bumping into furniture. Oh, well. L had other things on his mind.

L awoke to sunlight shining on his face. He blinked for a second, uneasy. He hated that awkward moment of confusion when one has to go through the transition between sleep and wakefulness. One of the many reasons he tended to avoid sleep in the first place.

But then his other senses started working again and he relaxed. He was lying in a bed, which was soft, but it smelled of sex and sweat, and someone else was sleeping next to him. L peered over and looked at BB, who was lying flat on his stomach and snoring slightly. He, it seemed, had not left the blissful world of slumber quite yet.

L smiled a little, thumbing his lip and watching his lover.

BB

Beyond Birthday.

Rue Ryuzaki

B

Backup

The younger man nearly had more titles than L himself. Rue Ryuzaki was his birth name, the one given to him by his parents. The one that L had read off of his file when the boy had first arrived here a few years ago from another orphanage in Japan, his homeland. None but Quillish and himself knew about that name. Most of the House's residents referred to him as Backup or just B, his own alias, like all Wammy children were required to have.

L had never been particularly fond of that moniker, though he was the one who had come up with it in the first place. He used it when talking about BB, to Quillish or Roger perhaps, but when he and the other boy were alone, his student was simply Beyond Birthday, the name the successor preferred. L did not know what the moniker meant or why his sucessor had given it to himself in the first place, but he had never asked. He supposed it didn't really matter.

Beyond yawned a little and subconsciously moved closer to L. His mentor studied him. The natural similarity in appearance that his student and he shared still managed to amaze the young detective, even after so many years of knowing the younger man. He was a nearly flawless copy of L, like a photo that had been damaged just slightly in the process of making it, so that there were very subtle differences in the details.

BB was a few inches shorter than L and his skin was slightly tanner, a gentle peach as opposed to a starling ivory. His nose was a little less sharply pointed then his mentor's. Also, his hair, though the same deep ebony, was flatter somehow. It fell softly around his face, while L's stuck up from his head at strange angles. L blamed the fluffiness on his Russian heritage. Beyond's straight hair probably came from his 100% Asian roots. L himself was only a quarter Japanese and seemed to be missing a few of the genes.

Lastly, were his eyes. They were the most starling part of him, a bright pair of crimson orbs that sometimes seemed to glow eerily in their intensity. L thought they were BB's best feature. Whether this was because they were the one thing that was sure to separate the two of them in looks or just because he found them beautiful, the young man could not say.

Other than that, they were completely identical. Same bone structure, same facial features, same _everything._ L placed his hand next to his successor's; they could have switched fingers and nobody would notice. L sometimes wondered if sleeping with his mirror image made him a narcissist. Not that he cared.

But, despite the obvious insignificance of any physical difference, Beyond still went out of his way to make himself appear even more like his mentor. He used shading techniques to make his nose seem longer. He put gel in his hair to give it more volume. L gently ran one spidery finger over his student's cheek. A pale substance came off; makeup to make their skin tones match.

He copied L's habits, his posture, and even his clothing choices. L glanced over to another part of the room where BB's garments from last night had been carelessly thrown during intercourse. A pair of jeans undistinguishable from L's and a black, long sleeve, cotton shirt (Beyond had drawn the line at a white one due to his hatred of the color).

L had never been sure how to feel about the boy's obsession with him. If he was honest with himself, he found it flattering and wanted it to continue. But his paranoid side often nagged him that this was a little weird. Why _did_ his successor chose to do this? L's mind might have been mighty, but physically he was nothing special. He could understand BB wanting to copy some of the ways in which he worked, but to go so far as to try to _be_ him completely? It made the young detective wonder occasionally.

L shook his head. Now was not the time to worry about this. Now was the time to bask a few more minutes in the comfortable feeling of lying in bed with his lover, then get back to his own room and start working on some new cases. As if hearing his companion's thoughts about leaving, Beyond sighed and mumbled in his sleep. "Mmm. Lawlipop…"

Lawlipop, BB's pet name for him. Most people thought it referred to the young detective's constant intake of sweets, but L knew it had a deeper meaning.

Lawlipop.

Lawliet.

L Lawliet.

L did not know how his double had known his real name. Or anyone else's for that matter. Quillish Wammy, Roger Ruvie, and the true identities of the other children who arrived after him. Somehow, Beyond Birthday knew them all, as if just by looking at that person's face could tell him everything he possibly needed to know. When he and BB had first met, the curious child in L wanted to ask how his successor had known. But something deep in his gut told him not to, like if he was given the knowledge, it could change everything he thought about the world. And that was not something that he as highly relied upon detective could afford to do. So he had never questioned it.

And he was kind of glad that he hadn't because their relationship might not have progressed the way it did if he had interrogated Beyond about his abilities. L thumbed his lip some more. What _was_ their relationship anyway? They had spent a little time together when Backup had first arrived (both had been fascinated with their physical similarity), but no deep bonds had been formed. L, as a general rule, tried to stay away from his successors as much as he could so that they could gain independence and figure out their own style of solving cases. Yet, it felt like every time he turned around, B always seemed to be hovering nearby, slowly taking on the same identity of his mentor. L was going to talk to him about it, but then one day everything had suddenly changed and it hadn't seemed important anymore.

L had taken a few of his successors into one of the classrooms and taught them some of the techniques he used in his cases. The class had lasted a few hours and then L had sent everyone on their way. But Backup had stayed behind. He continued to sit in his chair, the same way that L did, and stared at his teacher. Finally, just when L had had enough and was going to ask the student if he needed something, B had gotten out of his chair and roughly grabbed his mentor.

_First place on a classroom wall…_

B had kissed him roughly, right then and there. L had been shocked at first, unsure of what to do.

_A lack of discipline._

_So unprofessional._

Maybe Backup was too impulsive. Maybe he didn't have what it took to be L's successor after all. Then the boy had looked directly into L's eyes and spoke.

"You are absolutely extraordinary." He had whispered.

It was then that the young detective had known he was doomed. The two had spent more time together after that (mostly in a bed of some kind) and Backup had become Beyond in L's mind.

Now, sitting quietly beside him, L questioned Beyond's reasons for kissing him that day. The relationship they had seemed to be exactly what BB had wanted, but what was it they shared? The young man reached over and brushed a lock of hair away from his doppelgänger's face before whispering softly in his ear. _"You're not a friend, you're just a lover."_ Beyond didn't stir.

L took that as his cue to leave. He quietly climbed out of the sex-soaked bed and stretched. He felt sticky and unclean. The jam from the night before had been quite thoroughly consumed (as well as used in other manners), but it always left a residue on one's body no matter how enthusiastically another might have licked it off. He shuffled over to a corner to grab his discarded clothes and winced slightly. He was sore, particularly around his lower half. Beyond Birthday certainly lived up to his claim; aggressive top indeed.

The young detective donned his shirt, pants, and boxers from the day before. There was nothing else for him to wear; he'd change after a shower. Besides, he had to have _something _covering his person while walking down the halls. Might cause poor Roger to have a fainting spell if he didn't…

L chuckled to himself at the image of prim and proper Roger dressed in an old fashioned dress and falling down dramatically, one hand clutching his heart, the other fanning himself, and a high pitched "Oh, my stars!" upon his lips. Now _that_ was something he needed to share with Quillish. The old man had a much better since of humor than his friend.

Still giggling slightly, L walked back over to the bed and placed a soft kiss atop Beyond's forehead. The successor didn't wake, but he smiled slightly and hummed contently. L's lips twitched into a small smile of his own and he looked affectionately at his double before exiting the boy's room.

The walk back to L's own apartment was a leisurely one. He examined the halls as he went by, keeping track of any slight changes to the House that had been made in his absence (there weren't many). He reached the stairs that would take him to the top floor, where he and Quillish lived, but paused and glanced down the other side of the hall to where a tiny light from under a door could be seen.

It was still fairly early, so most of the other children wouldn't be up yet. But L knew whose room that door belonged to and was not surprised at all to know he was awake at this hour. Actually, there was an 86% chance that he hadn't slept at all last night. Well, the young detective would reward him for his diligence.

L quietly shuffled down the hall and gently pushed the door open. The space was as messy as always, computer parts and clothes strewn across every available surface. The single source of light was a large computer screen, which the room's resident was currently staring intently at. He didn't even look up when the door was opened, so intense was his focus. L cleared his throat and the young man jumped, completely startled, his glasses becoming askew.

"Oh, hello, L." A said. He readjusted his rectangular, dark rimmed spectacles. "Did you get back recently?"

Adam Unian

A

Alternate

L nodded, taking in his successor's appearance. The boy looked tired. Very tired. But he seemed the same as he had when L had left a month ago. His sandy hair was longish and his bangs hung low on his forehead. The pair of wide brown eyes hadn't changed; only the bruise-like circles under them had grown. He was as small and slender as always, green shirt and brown pants hanging loosely on a delicate frame. L wondered for a moment if his student was getting enough to eat, the poor thing looked rather malnourished. Then again, most people could say the exact same thing about L himself, so he left it alone.

"Yes." He replied. "Mr. Wammy and I arrived home late last night."

A cast a quick glance of his own back at L. He took in his teacher's very wrinkled clothes, his post-sex bed hair, and the rather large hicky forming on his neck. L reflexively covered the mark (Beyond had been very interested last night on sucking on spot on L's throat that the teenager particularly liked) and A blushed slightly. The poor boy had always been a little uncomfortable with the relationship Backup had with their mentor. But he made no comment.

"Did the case go well at least?" A asked. His tone was polite, but L could tell that he wasn't really interested in the answer. He kept glancing back at his computer screen, as if something important there required his attention. Which it probably did. L rocked on his heels a little and nodded again.

"Yes. We were victorious."

A seemed to be trying to smile, maybe to show he was glad that the mission was a success, but he was failing. This was getting too weird for L's tastes.

"Well, I won't distract you any longer. Keep up the good work, A."

The student looked relieved then a little happier. Praise went a long way. L walked out and closed the door behind him. Almost immediately, the furious typing of keys could be heard.

L sighed and headed back towards the stairs. He always felt so awkward around his successors (BB not withstanding), like he didn't know how to act. But A was the hardest to deal with. The boy was about the same age as himself and perhaps just as smart, but he was weaker than L somehow. More vulnerable. The young detective knew why: the poor creature had been abused for most of his childhood growing up in central London. At ten, he had been taken by Protective Services to an orphanage, which was where Quillish had found him. He had been the first child to arrive at Wammy's House for Extraordinary Children, once the place had been reopened as a refuge specifically for gifted kids.

Perhaps the awkwardness was because he and A were already similar enough that it seemed strange for L to act as a mentor to the boy. L had things to teach him, but mostly A's real job was to be what his name implied: he was an alternate, someone to take over if something should ever happen to L. That meant his whole life depend solely on what L did. That situation was bound to make anyone feel uncomfortable.

L thumbed his lip as he walked, thinking hard. Maybe the program he had put into place was too stressful. A had looked absolutely exhausted and very fragile, like the smallest thing could break him. Perhaps…

No. The work wasn't that difficult; all the measures put in place simulated what L himself did on a daily basis. If his successors couldn't handle it now, how could they possible function as L should they have to take over his duties? No, the program stayed. Besides, it seemed to be working okay so far; he'd change it if there proved to be a problem.

Liking his decision, L finally arrived at his apartment and opened the door. The glorious scent of cake greeted him. Quillish Wammy really was a wonderful man. A piece had already been cut and a fork sat next to it; L grinned a little. This was his guardian's not-so-subtle way of reminding him that eating utensils were there for a reason. He got cake whenever he wanted, but he had to eat it gracefully. Well, a deal was a deal. L picked up the fork and had just tucked into his dessert/ breakfast/ whatever, when the source of said food item walked in, a gentle smile upon his face and a steaming cup of tea in his hand. Earl Grey, by the smell of it. Some things never change.

"Good morning, L." Quillish said, taking a sip of his beverage. L had good enough manners to swallow the cake stuffed in his cheeks, before replying "Good morning, Quillish." The elderly gentlemen bustled round the room, tidying a few things and generally making the space more orderly. He must have gone to bed immediately after getting here last night instead of cleaning. L would ask.

"Did you sleep okay?" Quillish nodded, fluffing one of the pillows that belonged to the couch L was currently sitting on. "Yes, thank you." He turned and looked at his ward, his blue eyes sparkling behind his spectacles. "I take it you did not? Tell me, did you or Backup get any sleep at all last night?"

L turned his face away, blushing. Despite the fact that he made no efforts at all to hide what he and Beyond shared, he still always felt a little strange talking about it with his caretaker. It might have stemmed from the fact that Quillish had basically raised him. And many sources said that children often felt awkward when speaking about their romantic relations to their parents. Or perhaps it was because the man had been the first person to know about the relationship. L's blush deepened, thinking about that day. Poor Quillish had been minding his own business and had innocently opened up a closet to put away a hat, when he had come across L and BB, the latter's tongue halfway down the former's throat.

The teenager mentally shook away the memory. "We got a little." He answered slowly, feeling uncomfortable. "He was still passed out when I left a few minutes ago." Something about that must have struck his guardian as funny, because the old inventor laughed. "Oh, that was mean, L. You couldn't have waited long enough to at least say goodbye after he woke up?" His charge shrugged a set of thin shoulders, unapologetic. "He knows where to find me." L answered flatly. "Besides, don't I have cases that require my attention?"

Quillish still looked amused, but his voice took on its usual business-like quality. "Yes, you do indeed." He picked up a large stack of papers from the desk and handed them to his ward. "Some serial murders going on in Canada, a missing diplomat in Australia, and a small string of brutal arsenal cases going on in India, to name a few." It sounded like a typical work day for L. The young detective leafed through the pages, glancing at evidence and formulating some general theories for each case. He took another bite of cake, feeling tired already. The work itself wasn't hard, just sometimes a little tedious.

Quillish had begun fixing some coffee in the "very necessary, of course I need one!" coffee pot that he had permitted L to have when the young man had turned eleven and began drinking the stuff. The old man poured some water in the top and allowed the machine to run its course, while he sat down at the computer and began working through a couple files. Probably hacking into something important, if his charge had to take a guess. L continued with his cases, uninterested.

The coffee was steaming along nicely and nearly at its bubbling point, when suddenly Quillish snapped his fingers and turned the spiny chair around to face the boy behind him. "I almost forgot." The elderly gentlemen said. "I spoke to Roger earlier. We apparently got a new ward while we were away."

_That_ was enough to grab L's attention. The inky haired detective looked up from his work. "Really? When?" he asked. "A little over a week ago. Roger said that you should go see him later today, so you can get the child's information." L nodded and even the years of practiced impassiveness couldn't stop the smile from forming on his face. New children arriving here was rare, due to the limits Quillish had placed on the availability to gain entrance to the school. So this kid must be something special if he had gotten in.

"Who is this child?" he asked his guardian, excitement building slightly inside him. But Quillish just shook his head. "I don't know much except that the kid is male and he is much younger than A or B." L nodded again. Well, at least this would be something to look forward to. He'd go and talk to Roger this afternoon when some of his work was finished; the old man would probably be a little less cranky if the visit occurred after he had been awake for a while as opposed to early in the morning.

The day seemed to drag on after that. A shower was taken and work was done. The cases were fairly easy and L even got the one with the missing diplomat completely solved, but there were still lots of them and each was very time consuming. Finally, by four o'clock, the young detective was ready for a break. That one case with the arsonists was getting ridiculous and if he had to hear one more Swedish policeman go on and on about how "this car bomber is the worst villain in the world right now and should be Mr. L's top priority", L himself was going to start blowing up vehicles just to let off some steam.

L got up from his spot on the couch and turned his tired shoulders a little, cracking his back. He would definitely need some pie later. The teen took the last sip of his coffee, which had been the final cup of the third pot Quillish had made today, and headed to towards the door. Quillish ceased his searching in the file cabinet for a moment to give his charge a nod of acknowledgement. L smiled at him and left.

Roger's office was on the bottom floor, close to the main entrance. This was so, in the uncommon event that an outsider was ever invited onto the property, the House's caretaker could let them in without sharing too many of the place's secrets. L knocked and after a low "Come in", he opened the door. The boy had not been in the space for a while, but it seemed unchanged since his last visit. A large old fashioned desk with a single lamp upon it, bookshelf crowded with first editions, and a comfortable chair shoved off to the side. Two enormous windows allowed the weak, wintery sunlight to shine in and a soft oriental rug was on the floor. Everything was simple, but tastefully decorated. It wasn't really L's style, but it fit the owner of the room's personality 100%.

L spoke. "You wanted to see me Roger." It wasn't a question. The old man looked up from his seat in the plush chair behind the desk. "Ah, yes, L. Welcome back. Thank you for coming down." He said. The man's voice was as monotone as ever, but L's highly trained perceptive skills picked up on the barest traces of dislike. The teenager wasn't surprised: he had known the minute that Quillish had asked his old friend to take on this job that Roger Ruvie did not like L Lawliet. And the feeling was mutual. Roger saw L as arrogant and overconfident, a spoiled genius who needed to learn to respect his elders despite his brilliance, while L saw Roger as a stubborn old man who might have been clever, but was not nearly smart enough to try and discipline L.

Still, they kept their relationship civil for Quillish's sake. Roger had known Quillish Wammy for over thirty years and was indisputably the man's best friend in the world. And L was the son the old inventor had never had. Each loved the wise philanthropist in their own way and didn't want to cause him pain. So, there was a silent pact kept by the two of them to play nice, even when Quillish wasn't around.

"I heard we got a new resident." Roger nodded. "Yes. A little boy was dropped off here by an old police officer from London about ten days ago." That about matched with what Quillish had said earlier. L waited for the elderly gentleman to continue. Roger crossed his fingers and rested his chin on them, an old habit of his when speaking. "The child's name is Nate River. His parents were killed in a huge car accident the night before he came here. He was the only survivor."

L felt a tiny bit of sadness pull on his heartstrings. _Those poor people._ Police organizations around the world probably believed otherwise, but the young detective did have a human side. Death might have been a common occurrence that he heard about almost every day, but it didn't stop it from being any less awful. "How did the policeman know to bring him here?" L asked. Roger shifted in his seat a little. "The hospital the boy was taken to had the numbers to both of our orphanages. The officer apparently saw the kid putting together a Rubik's cube in a record amount of time and gave us a call."

L bit the pad of his thumb. "And was all of this true? The puzzle solving stuff, I mean." Roger just shrugged nonchalantly, but L could tell he was a little irritated that the young man had questioned his abilities on screening the House's applicants. L smiled inwardly. Hee hee. "It seemed to be. I tested the child myself when he was brought here." was Roger's response. L just nodded. "May I meet this kid then?" he asked. "Ehm." Roger said. He rose out of his chair, but paused a moment. "Oh, there is one thing that you should know, though, L." He said. The raven-haired man looked at him intently. "This boy is only two years old."

Now wasn't _that_ interesting. L cocked his head to the side, like he always did when he was confused. "I didn't think we were taking children that young." Roger's eyes now had a slight gleam in them. "Our set up was that we would take children who could prove themselves to be brilliant. The fact that this child was able to solve all those puzzles seems good enough to me." The gleam had developed a bit of meanness in it. "I don't know this to be true, so correct me if I'm wrong, but I'm guessing that even the great L couldn't solve intense brain teasers as a toddler?"

_Ouch._ Looks like they were even now. _Damn._ And L had been having so much fun winning this game. Oh, well. The young detective shook his head. "I don't know, sir. You would have to ask my deceased family." Roger's gaze softened just slightly. Despite his general contempt for L, the pale man knew Roger often felt a little sorry for him. Nobody could hate someone who had been orphaned at five. They just couldn't. So Roger said nothing more and just gestured for them to leave. L followed him patiently out the door.

The walk they shared was short; the child had been given a room on the bottom floor. L stepped through the threshold and looked around the space. It was rather small, but, then again, L had a whole apartment to himself, so what did he know of sizes. There wasn't much furniture, except for a bookcase, a dresser, and a crib. And sitting in that crib, was a tiny toddler.

L glanced at Roger, unsure of what to do. The old man rolled his eyes dramtically and went over to the dresser, which he opened, and collected a large blanket. Then, he gathered a few of the hand-held puzzles sitting on the bookshelf. He set the blanket, with the toys on top of it, on the floor in front the crib and then gently picked up the little boy and sat him on the blanket. L didn't really know what Roger was talking about when he said that he hated children; he had great natural instincts with them.

Quillish's old friend then walked back over to L and pointed toward the kid. L, who was anything but thick, got the message and slowly shuffled over. The child was curled up in a little ball, his face turned downward. He had already picked up one of the brain teasers and was playing with it, small hands working furiously. L crouched down and watched him. He was a tiny thing, barely bigger than a doll, with porcelain skin and a head full of ivory curls. L frowned. The youth didn't know much about babies, but he didn't think they were supposed to look like they were made of china and could easily be shattered.

Some of L's thoughts must have shown on his face, because Roger spoke. "The medical staff gave him a full exam when he arrived. The best they can tell is that he was extremely premature at birth, which is why he's so small. He's slightly anemic, so he's probably going to be very pale and thin for most of his life. Also, there are a few signs that allergies might develop later on. Asthma, too."

So, this bitty thing was a helpless, anemic asthmatic who could barely hold his own head up, yet that head was already filled with brains powerful enough for solving complicated problems? L felt the tinniest of grins tug at his thin lips. This boy had Wammy House kid written all over him.

"Hello, little one." L whispered. The inky haired youth didn't expect the child to respond, so he was very surprised when the little creature lifted his head and looked directly into his elder's face. The young man felt a small gasp escape his lips. Staring back at him were a pair of enormous ebony eyes, already shining with intensity and intelligence. Those eyes seemed to be sizing him up, questioning who he was. Well, no point in keeping him wondering. "My name is L." the older boy said "I live here as well. It is very nice to meet you."

The kid seemed to understand, but he still looked unconvinced of L's good intensions. He picked up a Rubik's cube from his collection of toys and held it out to the thin man before him. L gave him a smile and a nod, taking the cube. He set to work immediately trying to fix it. It didn't take long; Rubik's cubes had been one of his favorite things to play with when he was younger. He handed it back to his charge. The boy examined it, making sure everything was in order, and set it down. He picked up a second puzzle and gave it to the teen. L solved this one as well and returned it.

This pattern continued for several minutes until the last of the brain teasers surrounding the child had been completed. The little boy glanced around to check for anymore, then looked at his teacher. He opened his mouth and smiled, revealing pretty pearly teeth. L knew that he had just passed a test of some kind.

Roger was still standing nearby, watching the pair. L turned and looked at him and asked kindly "Would you mind going into the playroom and fetching some Legos please?" The old man nodded and quietly left. L remained and sat comfortably with his new apprentice. Roger returned a few minutes later carrying a large tub of the plastic rectangular toys. The child peered into the box, curious. L took out a handful of the little pieces and gave the kid a grin.

"You let me use some of your play things, so now you are welcome to use some of mine." The slender youth began constructing a simple structure, one part on top of the other, until he had a tower. The bitty child stared at the thing, transfixed. He poked at it with a tiny finger. The shape shook, but did not fall. The little boy's eyes lit up. He grabbed a bunch of the blocks and began building. L laughed at the kid's enthusiasm, then set about adding a few more additions to his own masterpiece.

They continued like this for nearly two hours. Constructing and, if they got bored with one structure, destructing to make room for new one. L was putting the last finishing touches on what he thought was a very realistic scale model of the Eiffel Tower, when he glanced over to see that his charge had fallen fast asleep, a few Legos still clutched in his delicate little hand.

The young man stood up and looked around. Roger had left a while ago, leaving the two youngsters to their own devices. But now the older of those two was not sure what to do with the younger. He considered leaving the kid and going to find Quillish. No. He disliked the idea of leaving the tiny thing alone. Well, he was smart, he could figure this out.

L leaned down and gently lifted the boy into his arms. The child reflexively clutched him. The youth gently moved his charge to his shoulder and the little creature snuggled closer, burying his face in his guardian's neck. L just stood there for a moment, marveling. He was very warm and his weight felt pleasant against the young detective's chest. The raven-haired man buried his nose in the soft curls; the little one even smiled rather nice.

Stepping over plastic towers, some of which nearly came to his knees, the young man went over to the crib and lay the boy down. A small blanket sat on the side. L draped it over the sleeping babe and set a stuffed bunny, which had been sitting at the top of the crib, close to him. The little child hugged it close to himself.

L backed away slightly, watching the little one rest. He felt tingly all over, like he had just taken a big gulp of hot chocolate. It was not a bad feeling. The bitty child sighed in his sleep, dreaming. L could only grin. He turned around and crept out of the room, closing the door silently behind him.

So that was that. Every day, after many of his cases were done, L would go to his ward's room and play with him until the kid fell asleep. It was a nice schedule, one that he liked rather a lot. It was on the fifth day around 4:30 that Quillish came in.

L had been playing with some dice, showing his charge how to stack them perfectly, when he heard a knock. Quillish opened the door slightly and stuck his head in. "L, there has been a new break in the Chicago case. You are needed upstairs." He pulled his head out and left.

The youth blew some air out his nose, feeling disappointed. He was having fun. Oh, well. Work came first he supposed. He put the dice back in their little box and picked up his ward, who was making some noises of displeasure that play time had ended. He set the boy down in his crib and gave him an apologetic look. "Sorry, kiddo." He said. "I have to go now. We'll play some more tomorrow." He ran a hand through the silky curls and turned around. The boy made a few small squeaks for him to stop, but L ignored them. Cases were important. He reached the door and was about to grab the knob, when he heard a soft, high voice.

"L" it said.

L started and slowly looked behind him. The boy was sitting in his crib, tiny hands gripping the bars, and staring at his mentor.

"L" he repeated.

L opened his mouth. Then closed it again. Then, at the risk of looking like a very confused trout, opened it a second time, trying to formulate words.

"Are you…talking? To, me?" he whispered.

The child frowned at him, looking rather impatient at his teacher's stupidity.

"L" he said yet again, this time with more force.

L walked back over to the crib, feeling a little shell-shocked. "So you _are_ talking to me." He said. The kid gazed up at him, eyes filled with admiration.

"L" he chirped. "Stay."

L blinked several consecutive times, figured out that he was in fact not dreaming, and picked up his charge. He spoke very slowly. "I can't stay, little one, I have things I need to do." The boy poked out his lip in a precious pout.

"L, _stay_." He insisted.

L shook his head. "My cases are upstairs. I have to work on them."

His ward's eyes shown with sadness. He placed a hand on his mentor's cheek. "L. Stay." He whispered. The young detective's heart melted.

So that was how L found himself seated on his favorite couch, a file in his hand, and a toddler playing in his lap. Quillish was sneaking amused glances in their direction. L found he didn't care. Instead he turned and looked at the little boy fiddling with a Rubik's cube. The fourteen year old set his work down for a moment and ran gently ran his fingers through porcelain curls.

"You need a name." he said. Quisllish stopped pretending to not be watching him and turned to face his charge. "Yes, I was wondering about that." He said. "This child has been here for over two weeks now, he should have an alias."

L hummed in agreement. The boy had stopped playing and was staring up at him. L smiled. "Tell me something, little one. You have obviously been able to understand everyone around you. Why did you only talk to me?" The child blinked his huge onyx eyes. He grabbed his mentor's fingers with one little hand and spoke his first sentence.

"You are like me." He held up the Rubik's cube for emphasis.

L felt pride warm his insides and he looked at Quillish. The old man's blue eyes were shining. "Well, I guess that answers that." He said. L nodded, thinking. Then he smiled, a big one filled with teeth and love.

"Near is a good name." he said. "You'll always be near with someone the same."

Near sat still for a minute, taking on his new identity. Then he wrapped bitty arms around L's skinny waist, hugging him.

"Thank you, L." He whispered against the soft cotton shirt.

L patted his head and gazed out the window. Snow had begun to fall outside, but Wammy's House was warmer than ever.

The End


End file.
